The Kiss: A Destiel Fanfic
by Vasilibox 720
Summary: NOW UPDATED WITH VERSION 2.0 - more elaboration, more feels, more awkwardness only Vasilibox720 could bring you! Cas struggles with admitting his romantic feelings to his best friend Dean Winchester. (Not inspired by real-life events because this clearly has a happy ending and the real world does not.)
1. The Kiss, A Destiel Short Story

**The Kiss**

Castiel turned to Dean, sitting in the driver's seat of his 1967 Chevy Impala. He had gone to get a bite to eat after a long day of FBI impersonating and demon hunting and with Sam back at the base, sick, Cas came along. Dean had been wary and tired as of late and Cas was worried of his judgment slipping or his intoxication while driving, both very serious issues for humans as he had learned over the years.

But then, there was the _other _reason for Cas coming along this night. He had been waiting for the opportune moment to come clean with Dean, to explain just why he has been here all along . . . and a moment between the two of them alone was his only chance. As Cas slowly breathed and thought about what he would say, he looked at his best friend up and down; he took in Dean's well-chiseled arms, turning the steering wheel ever so slightly, following the curve in the road; he traced the veins down Dean's right hand with his eyes, sensing the blood flowing through those vessels; and he marveled at God's golden ratio incarnate in Dean's perfectly proportioned face.

And so as Dean slowly pressed on the brakes as he approached a stop light, Castiel took his one chance and said, "Dean . . ."

Dean turned to look at Cas, half-smiling, "Yeah, Cas, what's up?" Cas seemed to be experiencing slow-motion as he saw each twitch of Dean's mouth form those words. He took in a sharp breath and exhaled.

"Dean, I – I don't know. . ."

At a full stop now, Dean interjected, "Cas, it's okay. You can tell me whatever you need to, you're my best bud. Whatever it is, let it out."

Cas fidgeted and twiddled his thumbs. "De – Dean, could you pull over first?"

Dean had never seen Castiel – the angel of the Lord, Castiel – stutter or be unsure of himself before. He pulled the car into the grassy area on the side of the road and shut the car off.

"Cas, is everything okay? I've never seen . . ."

Cas cut him off abruptly. "I love you." Without looking back at Dean, Cas opened the passenger door and started walking away back towards the stoplight, hands in his pockets. _There, I said it. I said what I needed to say._

Dean nearly jumped out of the car as he ran after his best friend. "Cas! Castiel! Cas! Wait up!" He grabbed Cas by the shoulder and spun him around. "Cas."

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel looked unsure and worried, not clear if Dean understood what he had said or meant.

Dean placed his hands on Cas' face as he planted a kiss on his lips. Cas could sense there was something more than a physical connection between their sensitive lips . . . he felt as if Dean's soul had merged with his grace, or something to that effect.

He felt the entire spectrum of human emotion in that kiss. He felt the summation of all human felt intense sexual attraction, something which angels had never been known to feel. He felt something happen to his penis, something which had only been described to him before. He felt the world around him melt away, as if there were only Dean and Castiel – no, they were one person, he felt as if there was only Destiel.

He felt love.


	2. The Kiss V2 ----- UPDATED VERSION

**The Kiss**

_Author's Note: So, how did this fanfic come about? Well, some of you by now are aware that I met my bff Maria over the summer and since then we've fangirled (it's a gender-neutral term, shhh) over just about everything together thanks to the magic of the Internet. She's the one who introduced me to Supernatural and the midseason finale hit her pretty hard; at the same time, she was going through a particularly nasty falling out with a friend and so I asked her if there was anything I could do to cheer her up._

_Her response? To write a Destiel fic. It took an hour of begging for me to not have to write smut._

* * *

_Author's Note #2: Reading back what I wrote a month ago, it is clear to me that I could've done a much better job with this story, so here is a new and improved version of my first Supernatural one-shot, "The Kiss." In rewriting the story, I am firmly setting it before the events of season 9. Kevin Tran is still alive, Gadreel/Ezekiel never possessed Sam's body, and all is well enough for this story to take place and put some happiness back in the Supernatural world._

* * *

Taking in the sunset's natural beauty as he cruised down the old U.S. highway in his black '67 Chevy Impala, professionally amateur demon hunter (let's face it, there's no official certification for his career) Dean Winchester pushed into his cassette player one of his most beloved albums, Kansas' 1976 album _Leftoverture._ He began twiddling his thumbs against the upper arc of the steering wheel to the classic ballad "Carry on My Wayward Son." Next to him in the front passenger seat was Dean's best friend and sworn protector, Castiel (or rather, Cas). Cas was an angel – yes, a Biblical angel – and had been part of Dean and brother Sam's life for the past few years; he and Dean had become close, with Cas bringing out the good heart Dean tries to hide and Dean helping Cas understand what human life is like.

With Sam lying ill back at the base with their assistant-of-sorts Kevin, Dean and Cas had set off with the intention of checking out a lead in Utah, but it hadn't panned out; they were now on the drive back home along the old highway, perilously low on fuel (both the car and Dean's stomach). Cas had previously asked Dean to just pull off to a motel for the night (Dean had been wary and tired as of late and Cas was worried of his judgment slipping) but he knew it was a fruitless effort; Dean only does what Dean wants to do, when he damn well feels like it.

Dean spotted a truck stop up ahead and switched into the turn lane on his left. "Time to fill 'er up, bud. We'll stop here, maybe grab a bite?"

Cas turned to look at his best friend, and nodding in acknowledgment, realized this was _the _moment, the opportune moment to come clean, to explain just why he's stuck with the Winchester brothers for this long. . . a moment between the two of them – alone – was his only chance. As Cas slowed his breathing and thought about what words he would – could – say, he eyed Dean up and down; he soaked in the musculature of Dean's well-chiseled arms, turning the steering wheel ever so slightly, following the curve in the road; he traced the veins from Dean's right forearm down to his hand, sensing the warm blood flowing through the intricate network of vessels; and he marveled at God's glowing golden ratio incarnate in Dean's perfectly proportioned prettyboy face.

And so as Dean lightly pressed on the brakes and made a left turn into the truck stop, Castiel took his one chance, exhaled slowly, and said, "Dean . . ." before stammering from nerves.

Dean turned to Cas as he unbuckled his seatbelt, half-smiling, half-smirking. He had parked the Impala in front of the truck stop diner. "Yeah, Cas, what's up?"

Cas' life began to flash before his fluttering eyes as he saw each twitch of Dean's mouth form those words. He took in a sharp breath.

"Dean, I – I don't know. . ."

Dean gripped Cas' left shoulder with his right arm and looked into his eyes. "Cas, it's okay. You know you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, let it out. I'm here for you. We're always gonna be best buds."

Cas fidgeted and twiddled his thumbs. In a low whisper he said, "That's what I'm afraid of," and dashed out of the car, pacing out of the truck stop and down the highway.

Dean had never seen Cas – top-of-the-Christmas-tree, angel of the Lord Castiel – stutter or hesitate before. If anything, Dean was the unsure one but Cas, ever the image of curiosity and surety, never had any qualms about speaking his mind. _What the fuck is scaring you, Cas? _Dean thought to himself as he nearly jumped out of the Impala and called after his best friend.

"Cas! Cas, where are you going?! You can talk to me, bud!"

Without looking back, Cas only responded, "Don't worry about me, Dean. You have your brother to worry about, and that's enough," and continued walking along the highway in the opposite direction. _How can I be so selfish, _Cas cried in his thoughts, _to think you have the focus and time to love me, let alone could love me in the first place? You and your brother lost your parents and your childhood; I'm not even sure you know what love is, Dean . . ._

". . . but I could teach you, Dean. All I want is the chance to teach you," muttered the angel, not paying enough attention to see the headlights of the Impala shining behind him.

Dean turned the headlights off and slowed to a crawl alongside Cas. "Teach me what?" he projected through the passenger window.

Cas jumped, not expecting to see Dean, as Dean parked the car on the curb and exited the driver's side door. "You said you wanted to teach me," Dean continued as he shut the car door and began walking around the rear of the car towards Cas, "but what do you want to teach me, Cas?"

Cas looked at Dean and saw that his breathing was accelerating; Dean's palms were becoming a tad sweaty; and his expression was not quite one of puzzlement, but rather hesitation. Cas tried to put together the words but all he could come up with was, "Uh, Dean, I - uh . . ."

Dean put his hands on Cas' shoulders and, looking into the angel's eyes, calmly nudged him along. "Cas. We're best pals. You know you can tell me anything; you don't have to be scared of anything. What do you want to teach m-!"

Before Dean could say another word, Cas put his arms around the back of Dean's neck and brought their lips together in a quick kiss. When their lips parted, Cas expected Dean would jump back and look bewildered; instead, when the kiss was over, Dean looked almost let down, his arms still on Cas' shoulders.

"You call _that_ a kiss? Oh, honey, you're the one that needs to be taught."

And Dean pushed Cas 90-degrees around, into the right side of the Impala as he went in for a _real _kiss, the kiss _he_ had been holding back for so many years now . . . and after what seemed to be a lifetime shared between only he and his best friend, Cas pulled back from the lips of heaven and the hallowed land where he once soared and returned to Earth, back to his human existence. "Dean, I – I don't – I didn't know how to . . ."

Dean Winchester laughed his first sincere laugh in a long while. "All that worrying and hesitation for nothing, huh?"

Cas opened his mouth to retort in kind before realizing Dean wasn't poking fun at him, but rather at himself. _Dean . . . Dean felt the same way. Dean was also hesitant. We were both hiding our true selves._ Cas smiled to himself. "Well I don't know if it was for _nothing_, Dean."

Dean smirked. "Oh yeah, Cas? How so?"

Cas opened the back door of the Impala and shoved Dean onto the rear seats before jumping on top himself and interlocking their sensitive, longing lips once more into an explosive kiss. Cas was again transported from his vessel to another, ethereal plane – as if his angelic grace had merged with Dean's eternal soul.

Cas felt the entire spectrum of human emotion in that kiss. He felt what a human would call intense attraction, something which angels had never before been known to feel. He felt the world around him melt away, as if there were only Dean and Castiel – no, they were one person . . . Destiel.

"Take off those jeans, and I'll show you how so, Dean Winchester," Cas whispered into Dean's ear as he began running his hand down towards Dean's zipper.

And as the sun set on that day, their love illuminated the night sky.


End file.
